I was in bed one night last month, all as per usual. Todd was gently snoring and I was fidgeting about trying to fall asleep, when I heard it. “What did you say?” I asked. But on he snored, so this time I gave him a little shove as I repeated: “what did you say?” “Eh, oh, what?” he replied. I repeated myself and he insisted that not a word had passed his lips before returning to that gentle snore. To be fair, it hadn’t sounded like him. Todd’s a bit loud and this had been the gentlest of whispers. I lay still and listened for what seemed like ages before starting to drift off again. Then it happened again, but this time I stayed quiet and listened – really, really hard.
I’d turned a fan on before going to sleep, but there was definitely something else and it sounded like whispers. The longer I listened, the more certain I became that there were multiple voices whispering in the dark. At some point I must’ve drifted off because when I woke up, the fan was off and the whispers were clear.
They were talking about me. I heard them say “Her” and yes, it was with a capital H. Then one of them used my name. I tried not to freak out and concentrated on just keeping my breathing regular as if I was meditating. I heard one of them say “that car, it’s so old” whilst another chimed in with “and yet she drives it so fast, always going over the speed limit”. I had to really focus on not sitting up and saying “hey, don’t talk about me like that!” Then a really little girl voice said: “I’m so scared for her, there’s been too many near misses on roundabouts”. And that chilled me. She was right, I’d become a tad cavalier and noticed that I was getting rather more hoots than usual on roundabouts. I made a mental note to scale back the speed and be more careful at junctions. And then I drifted back to sleep.
In the morning, I convinced myself it had all been a dream. But it kept happening. If I woke in the middle of the night, kept quiet and really listened, I could hear them. There were a lot of voices, although four were particularly vocal. They would discuss what had been happening during the day and sometimes they would hark back to other stuff. Each seemed to have a particular bee in their bonnet. One man didn’t like Todd and kept pointing out negative things about him: “he drinks too much” or “I don’t like his temper” and “why does he’s keep saying uncomplimentary things about how she looks?” It was weird, if I was having a conversation, I’d been able to defend him, but I wasn’t, and so their opinions stayed out there, worming their way into my mind. I can’t say I liked what I heard. The worst was when they all started to agree with him “he’s so controlling …”.
I took that man’s advice one day and packed my bags. I’d pretended to go to work, but came home once he’d gone. I’d been planning it for a while now – putting aside a bit of money in a secret savings account and arranging to work for my old mate Julie in her pub down in Wales. I hated my job anyway and as I’d just been paid – straight into that new savings account – I was skipping town with my month’s wages. The doorbell rang – it was that man-with-a-van I’d hired to help me move. There wasn’t much I wanted to take mind, I didn’t want any reminders, so I took only what I’d brought with me. The van followed me on my final task – dropping my car at the local second-hand dealer. He was only giving me a few quid for scrap value, but it was one more thing put behind me.
My whispering ghosts were going to be happy tonight …
© Debra Carey, 2017